Either the big guns will get you or I'll load up the trike with Talibanfan and pay you a visit.

Tuesday, 27 July 2010

Boring Part 2 of ?

Truth; can you feel it?

Can you see truth? Can you taste it or hear it? Can truth kill you as you smell it? Can you bathe in the quiet afterglow of its terror and dream of a future free of untruth?

I don’t quite know yet where this is going, there is a ruined house here after the screaming and yelling that accompanies end of school year hair letting down and fire starting. However as I pour myself another hit of Mil Spec Hot Lava Java some things heave into view and straight into the cross hairs.

I, the last glass of blood did drink?

Bee Piss. I remember my favourite uncle telling me the BP joke over 35 years ago now. About the same time he hit me with the Green Adair joke. Classics. And so the joke continues.

A loss of £11 Billions in the first quarter and a bunch of clowns chaining themselves to the pumps in the Smoke. Oh and incidentally another trooper bit the dust in the stinking, stone age, dump that is AfPak. Teresa May is talking shit again. Candida Antibiotics Cameron is off swanking around the Teutons favourite shithole wanking about getting them into the Oligarchs’ favourite schmoking den the Eunuch’s Union.

Money does not exist. Truth. Therefore profits are a mere phantasm of an imagined night emission. What the magic makers want us to believe is that profits, a measure of the total homicidal inefficiency of our system, are good. Why? Well the people who get their imagined hands on the illusory metric are lazy, supremacist, intergenerational dreamcasters.

Whenever a business bitch starts talking about his/her money realised through the sweat of their own brow you have to wonder about the collective wisdom of the herd. The wisdom of crowds. The fuckwittery of the masses. I want to take said business bitch aside to boot the fucking shite out of it. Why? There is no one there that is why. The business bitch is an empty vessel. And like all empty vessels they make the most noise. Financial vuvuzelas, monotonous primatives. Just like its imagined fiat finance it does not exist. However s good dose of steel toe capped pain might just snap something into reality that you can interact with.

So 11 Billion measures of nothing were lost. No they were not. They never existed.

One trooper did exist and he has gone. The pain in his family’s life is incalculable. However that is real truth. His family can feel it and taste their bitter tears. You and I know that in the great universal spreadsheet his cell was deleted and the costs placed on the imaginary register of the ancient high priests’ corrupted and corrupting theft of our lives and loves.

How long has this circus with our bread being going on? Well if you’ve been with me so far you’ll know it is at least 6000 years. 6000 long years of slowly killing off anyone who will not join the psychosis. Teresa comes to mind here. All those years in the wilderness, sulking in the Wöld, seems to have fucked her sartorial faculties. Oh and her brain, no surprise. So Teresa what was that proposal again?

Ah yes change. Teresa let me invite you to join me in a secret. The only people who ever thrived on the kind of change you, Candida, Barry and the Cludgeron are always farting from you cakeholes, is organised criminals. When I was wandering through the great big Ladybird book of business strategy, De Witt, Porter et al, one of the things that became apparent to me was that the greatest business leaders on the planet ran the drug gangs. In a constantly changing and unstable business environment these guys were supreme. Their closest allies were murderous turn coats, the business day was full of lead and the fruits of their considerable labours were death. Teresa you and your airheaded mates might want to have these guys running our public administration and services but that just reveals your total bankruptcy. Fool. Fucktard. What’s your plan for policing then? Oh yes it would be along those lines wouldn’t it because the dirty little secret you and your fuckedwitz chums cannot tell us is that you’ve sold out to the Talibanfan, haven’t you? This is what you have in mind for our soon to be unelected policing.

Mind you Teresa with your dress sense a full on armoured burkha would be an improvement. Ass wipe. You don’t seem to actually give a flying fuck about the electorate who were groomed into disenfranchisement, do you? I suppose you must be glad that the wars of the 20th century killed off all the guys and gells who would actually stand up to you and your cookie crew by pointing out the very very obvious. You are traitors, gangster molls. Boybitches and bitchboys. Yelping and dancing like mad dogs for your rabidly religious unhinged masters.

Funny how you lot from the other side of the tracks seem to want to embrace electing people now. A hot fever of electing has broken out in your Brokeback ranks, wanks! Why? Well it is al a con isn’t it? You’ve been told that the new creeps smuggled into this country have to be given the reigns pronto. Because they have real money. Unlike the country you claim to represent which you and the other side of the schmokin' pokin’ club, bankrupted deliberately. If you clowns have your way there will not be a single position of influence and prestige in this country occupied by the descendent of someone living and breathing and fighting for this country in 1945.

Why is that Teresa? Is it because you clown clothed collection of MPs have been well and truly Gok’d? Your mate Candida was Gok’d a long time ago. He’s all angry because the Fully Fez’d Feathered Fools in the least attractive faux secular society this side of the Ganges are not being welcomed into the biggest stinking pile of RICO outside the USofA corp.

In fact let’s get back to De Witt and Porter. The early part of the 20th century found gangsters taking over the planet. USSR. China. Germany. Commies and Nasties everywhere. All gangsters. So what happened in USofA corp. How come Al (what’s your real handle) Capone, Bugsy (what’s your real handle), Dutch (what’s your real handle) and the Anthill Mob didn’t get to trash USofA corp.? Well it was all asynchronicity. The business case hadn’t been prepared. The business plan for USofA corp. lags that of EUSSR by half a century. Backward dump. So expect the gangsters in the Whitehouse soon. Oooops, they are already there. Well it is FEMA camps and long marches for you lot then.

So back to Bernard Matthewsland then. Just what the fuck do you want these clowns in EUland for then? Since all you do is take money from us and hand it over to organised crime, just what lines of organised crime are greasing your back passages to gain entry to the club Candida? What is it that your RICO handlers want from Old Byzantium? Bearing in mind that you and your cronies will supp at anyone’s blood soaked table you certainly won’t be too worried about the Armenian genocide colouring your business plans as the universal spreadsheet is fired up and a billion extra cells are readied. Will you? And there is your problem. Having dined at the great rotating luncheon, in the blood red glazed halls, the clotted and stopped heartbeats of millions under foot on the sanguined floors of the people, a little line item on the off balance sheet massacre lists didn’t stop you turning on your own again. Did it? All those cells you created for the coolies are now empty. The Chinks didn’t fall for it did they? So you’re going to fill the cells by allowing the great unending human highway to ignorance to sweep in from the Bosporus.

Candida, you are a bitchboy par excellence. Spineless lickspittle turncoat bastard son of Moses.

2012.

All over the GGT this morning we’ve had a load of arsebark about the 2012 London Olympics.

So what do I see? I see a plan to steal elbow room for the Floating City. Like the stinking cheap, shoddy, built environment crap that is any building the public has access to, this fiasco costs a fortune in imaginary lucre and delivers nothing but cattle sheds.

Go on take a look at anything you have access to. Council offices, supermarkets, schools, leisure centres. Anything “built environment”. They are cheap, stinking soulless dumps fit for the bovine and nothing else. So what is the London Olympics delivering for us then Boris, son of Turkey, in the way of wonderful architecture? Well as you said this morning on the GGT the main stadium is a fake. You don’t know what is going to be there after the London Olympics has finished do you? You keep dropping the code words like sustainable & quality and all the other crap gleaned from the failed business textbooks the drug runners never read. Boris you know as I know that the London Olympics is just an excuse to sweep away the detritus, real people, and give the Floating City more acreage without them having to spend a cent. Import some clueless slaves to clean the buildings and shove them into high density housing so beloved of the fat pile a pestilent nothing Prescott, and then exclude the proles from the real architecture that you’ll get your kept cabal of Eunuch architects to put together for your exclusive pleasure.

So let’s have a squeak at what that means. Your partners in crime started pumping money into schools just after they turned up in 1997. A massive programme to rebuild and refurbish the schools. You didn’t bother actually teaching the children anything but you kept the docks humming as all the gear for the refurb was landed at the container terminals. You got all Swedish a couple of years back and I smelled your rat. We the public have spent a fortune on school buildings and you want to hand them over to?

Well not to put too fine a point on it you’ve been conspiring, both sides of the House, to hand over these properties to rabid religious exclusivist supremacist monotheist fucktards. Haven’t you?

Which ever branch of the Children of the Book you look at; whether it is Shite, First day Advent Hoppists, Orthodox Non Conformist Abrahamic Article Circle SunSeekers or Trappist Rapists, they are all a bunch of trouble making genocidal bastards full of their own selfishness.